The Demon Always Wins: Touched by a Demon, Book 1

by Jeanne Oates Estridge

  “Of all things, rubies are the most painful to a demon. When nothing else will stop them, a ruby will. They can’t touch one without being burned.” Nana’s age-spotted hands moved behind her neck to fumble with the clasp.

  Dara put her hand on Nana’s arm. “What are you doing?”

  “Giving it to you.”

  She scooted back. “I can’t take that. I bet you haven’t taken it off since the day he gave it to you.”

  Nana smiled proudly. “Never once to this day.” Her face clouded. “But you need it more than I do.”

  “You’re Lonnie Perdue’s widow,” Dara said. “What if they come after you?”

  “They won’t come after an old woman who’s at the end of her life.” Nana’s arthritic fingers worried the clasp without success. “Here, girl, help me with this.”

  With reluctant fingers, Dara undid the catch. “I really don’t think…”

  “Put it on.”

  Dara secured the necklace behind her neck. The cross needed a good cleaning—the rubies were a dull red instead of the glowing gems they could be—but it was still beautiful.

  “Don’t take it off,” Nana said. “Not even to shower.”

  “I won’t.” Dara slipped the cross inside her scrubs and sat down on the bed. “I’m still worried about them coming after you, though.”

  Nana shook her head. “It’s you they want.”

  “But why? Why me?” The question kept coming back.

  “Because you’re a good woman. Because you’re Lonnie Perdue’s granddaughter.” Nana paused and added softly, “Because of your anger.”

  “I’m not angry.” Dara’s voice was too loud, and the look Nana gave her over the top of her reading glasses said it hadn’t gone unnoticed.

  “I’m not angry,” Dara repeated, more quietly.

  “You’re angry at the Lord for taking Matt and the baby.” Nana’s flat tone allowed no room for argument.

  “I don’t think it’s me the demon is after. The clinic seems to be his real focus. I mean, why else would he come here disguised as a doctor?”

  Nana shook her head. “Satan wants souls.”

  “But he also wants to create human misery.”

  “Misery is just the means to an end—gathering in more lost souls.”

  Dara sighed. “I don’t suppose it makes any difference whether he’s after me or the clinic. We’re kind of a package deal.” She fingered the ruby cross. “This makes me feel safer.”

  Nana patted her arm. “It can only stop him from touching you if you don’t want him to.”

  Dara’s face heated. Given Dr. Lyle’s beauty and sexual magnetism, it was a valid warning.

  “I’m an old woman with prune juice in my veins instead of red blood, but that demon smells mighty good.”

  Dara couldn’t smell it anymore, but at the gas station, his aroma had been almost irresistible. The recollection brought back her desire to run her tongue over his throat, lapping up that delicious scent. She’d tracked it down his chest, feeling the rough texture of his chest hair beneath her… She looked up to find Nana’s shrewd eyes on her. Dara’s face grew even hotter.

  “I’ve got a solution for your antihistamine problem.” Nana threw off her quilt and hobbled over to her dresser. From the top drawer, she extracted a small jar made of dark blue glass and handed it to Dara.

  “Vicks VapoRub?” Dara stared at it in bemusement. Nana had rubbed the pungent salve on her chest when she was a child and had a cold. When she was a teenager, Nana had massaged it into her temples to cure a headache. And when they sat outside at night, Nana made everyone dab it on their necks, wrists and ankles to deter mosquitoes.

  But even from a lifelong evangelist of the salve’s healing properties, this was a bit much.

  “If you have to be around the demon for very long, dab a little on your upper lip. It will drown out his smell.”

  Dara choked back a laugh at the image of herself gazing up at Dr. Lyle, her upper lip glistening with Vicks salve.

  “This isn’t a joke.” Nana’s voice was sharp, and the lines in her face seemed deeper than usual.

  “Sorry.” Dara fingered the cross hanging around her neck. “I thought this was supposed to protect me.”

  “It will. He won’t be able to touch it without it searing his miserable hide. But you need help before he lays his hands on you.” The shrewd look was back. “The salve will mask his scent.”

  Dara’s face warmed again. She tucked the little jar into her purse.

  She would need every defense she could muster.

  Chapter 9

  “Just the demon I was hoping to see.” The heels of Lilith’s stilettos made a rat-a-tat-tat on the stone floor of the hallway outside DemSec, where Bad had just re-checked Belial’s pheromone mix. Although it was clearly flawed—no woman had ever sneezed at him before—the other demon had pronounced it perfect.

  “I don’t have time to chat, Lil,” Belial said. “I’m on deadline.”

  “I can help you move this along.”

  “I don’t play well with others.”

  Lilith caught up and fell into step beside him. She was wearing a skirt that barely covered her buttocks and a sweater that fit like paint. “Sometimes it’s good to have someone who’s got your back.”

  He snorted. “If someone has your back down here, it’s because they’re preparing to plunge a knife into it.” He lengthened his stride.

  She picked up her pace and trotted alongside him. “Not if you have a situation where you can both benefit from working together.” She was panting, but she didn’t give up.

  He glanced at her. “You can only trust another demon as long as the advantages accruing to her outweigh the benefits coming to you.”

  “Don’t be such a cynic. You helped me out with Zeus; I’ll help you with this mission.”

  Belial didn’t answer, just pressed his lips together and waited for her to continue.

  “You don’t think there’s ever a situation where two parties can mutually benefit from an alliance?” she asked.

  “Absolutely,” he said. “Right up to the point where one member of the alliance has something to gain by betraying the other. Then the alliance ends.” He increased his pace. She fell behind a step.

  “It’s a shame you feel that way,” she called breathlessly. “Because I was thinking of going to the boss and offering to be your wingman.”

  He stopped so abruptly Lilith ran into him. He turned around and took her by the shoulders. She blinked at him in a show of innocence that didn’t fool him for one second. “Don’t you dare.”

  Lilith was very competent, and she’d work like…well, a demon to see the mission succeed. The problem was, she’d work even harder to ensure that she got credit for the win. And in pursuit of that goal, she’d undermine everything he did.

  She cocked her head, tapping her cheek. “Did you just dare me?”

  “No.” He hated backing down, but the last thing he needed was for the insane wench to take this up as a challenge. He loosened his grip and patted her shoulder. “That was a figure of speech. What I meant was I’ve got this covered.”

  “You’re being very selfish, keeping this opportunity for yourself.” Her lower lip, as crimson as the flames that dotted the stone hallway, thrust forward in a pout.

  “Let’s be realistic.” He touched the clingy knit covering her shoulder. “This wager is a much better opportunity for me to screw up than it is to succeed. You know how wily the Enemy is. I’ll probably earn a few centuries in the maggot pit.”

  “Come on, Bel.” She batted her eyelashes at him. “It won’t cost you anything and it will improve my position. Women never get a fair shake down here.”

  He couldn’t deny that.

  “We’ve done some great work together in the past.” She stroked his arm suggestively. “Remember Solomon?”

  How could he forget? Under their partnership, Solomon had gone from being the wisest king Israel had ever seen to single-hand
edly destroying the United Monarchy of Israel and Judah. Belial’s first snare had worked flawlessly. Solomon grew addicted to gold and horses and fine chariots. Then Lilith took over, presenting him with dozens of beautiful women from many countries. The women lured him away from the Enemy and into worship of foreign gods.

  The plan was that Belial and Lilith would join together to execute the final snare—corruption of the sanctuary—to seal Solomon’s fate. Instead, Lilith had returned to Hell and proclaimed victory, reaping the rewards for herself.

  Before he could remind her of that little incident, she cut him off.

  “You do realize that if you don’t take me with you, I’m going to be here, poisoning the boss against you? Every time something goes wrong, I’ll point out how badly you’re screwing up. On the other hand, if you do take me, I can be a big help.”

  He looked down his nose. “And exactly how do you propose to help?”

  “I can befriend your target, become her confidante. I can herd her into your arms.”

  “Since when have I ever needed help seducing a woman?”

  “Never.” Lilith shrugged. “But this needs to go well beyond simple seduction. She needs to fall deeply in love with you. She needs a confidante to encourage her to trust you, to push her to risk everything for you.”

  For a moment, he actually considered it. Lilith was right. When he abandoned Dara, it must break her heart into pieces so tiny that not one was large enough to harbor an iota of love for the Enemy.

  Perhaps his next move should return to his strong suit—seduction. Bad’s research indicated she’d be at the grocery tonight. Belial would run into her there, seemingly by chance, and offer to make her dinner. With no bumbling policeman to intervene, she would be helpless to resist.

  “I don’t need your help,” he said.

  He thought Lilith would get angry, but she must have expected his response. “Do you remember how we wiled the time away on that Solomon mission?”

  In truth, it had been a very protracted mission. Solomon had lived to be eighty. More from boredom than attraction, they’d begun an affair. Lilith had exceptionally clever fingers. They seemed to know more about a man’s pleasure centers than he knew himself. Belial had a sudden vision of Dara’s scarred hands, sorting through the patient cards. Inexplicably, his sex stirred.

  Lilith saw his reaction but mistook its cause. With a laugh of triumph, she sank to her knees and unfastened his belt. He put his hands over hers. “Right here in the hallway?”

  She smiled up at him, her eyes sultry. “Why not?”

  He stared at her for a long moment and then shrugged. “Suit yourself.” Triumphantly, she freed him from his trousers. Before she could take him into the warm grotto of her very talented mouth, he added, “But you’re still not going with me.”

  He arched his hips back just in time to prevent her from gelding him.

  “You bastard.” She got to her feet. Her eyes, which had appeared heavy with desire a moment before, were as angular as a goat’s and hard as anthracite. “If you don’t take me with you, I will undercut every mission you attempt for the next thousand years.”

  “As long as I succeed, nothing you say will affect the boss’s opinion.” He buckled his belt. “And if I fail, nothing can make it any worse.”

  Chapter 10

  After five years of nagging, pleading, cajoling and threatening, Dara had finally convinced the landlord to take a look at replacing the clinic’s leaky roof.

  “I’m not making any promises.” He looked at the water-stained ceiling tiles and the rust on the metal supply shelves. “I’m just getting estimates.”

  After Dr. Lyle left the night before, the skies had opened up. As if mimicking the demonic doctor’s fury, the wind had blown horizontal sheets of rain against the clinic windows. The storm had reinforced Dara’s decision not to bring Dr. Demon on board, but it hadn’t done much for the roof. Buckets stood everywhere.

  “By the way”—the landlord cleared his throat—”there was one other reason I came out.”

  She braced herself. “By the way” always seemed to preface bad news.

  “We need to talk about your lease,” he said.

  She blinked. “What about it?” The lease was annual, renewed every year.

  “We agreed to set the rent low when you first opened up because of all the renovations you did, but that was five years ago.”

  “Renovations” was an understatement. “What kind of rent were you thinking?”

  He named a figure that was nearly twice what they were currently paying.

  “You can’t do that.” Shock numbed her lips. She could barely get the words out. “We operate on grants and donations. There’s no way we can come up with that much.”

  He shrugged. “I got a call this morning from someone looking for medical office space. This place would be perfect for him. He’s willing to pay that much.”

  I plan to set up my own practice here in Alexandria, the demon doctor had said last night.

  “When I first approached you,” she said, “this building was on the verge of being condemned. If I hadn’t renovated it, it would have been demolished.” She hated manipulating him with guilt, but a rent increase like that would wreck the budget.

  “The thing is”—he ducked his head—”I need the money.”

  “People depend on this place,” she said. “People with diabetes and high blood pressure, who could die without care.”

  “My daughter’s hooked on opioids.” He looked at her pleadingly. “She has a chance to get into a good treatment facility, but she doesn’t have insurance.”

  Dara swallowed. “I understand.”

  With a last guilty look, he was gone.

  She leaned her elbows on the Pit counter. Shock made her so lightheaded she could barely feel her fingertips. How would they ever come up with that much money?

  Gabby spoke behind her. “Dr. Fakhoury is here.”

  She straightened. Dr. Fakhoury was one of their most dependable volunteers, but it was unheard of for him to come in off-shift. Gabby pressed the door release and Dr. Fakhoury came into the Pit.

  “Mrs. Strong.” He dipped his head in a tiny bow. “I felt I must tell you this news in person. I have received an offer of employment as head of internal medicine at Denver Methodist in Colorado. I will no longer be able to volunteer in your clinic.”

  Dara gazed at him in surprise. “I didn’t know you were thinking of moving.”

  “I wasn’t.” His eyes were wide with wonder. “The call came out of the blue, as you say.”

  “That’s fantastic.” It was impossible to be anything but pleased for him. “I’ve heard Colorado is a great place to live. Are Mrs. Fakhoury and the children excited?”

  His shoulders relaxed and a smile creased his cheeks.

  “They are very pleased. My wife’s sister lives in Denver. Once we are settled, I will find a similar clinic and volunteer there. Do you perhaps know of one?”

  “I don’t, but I can research it and email you with a name, if you like.”

  He thanked her and left. That was twice this morning that people’s circumstances had changed unexpectedly.

  She was no sooner back in her office than Kelsey appeared in the doorway. Her posture was even more ramrod straight than usual. There was a glint in her eyes that could be anger or even tears. Dara stifled a sigh. She had been expecting this, but that didn’t mean she was looking forward to it.

  “Javier told me you refused to let Dr. Lyle volunteer,” Kelsey said.

  Dara nodded. “After careful consideration, I decided he wasn’t a fit for the clinic.”

  “He’s family practice and endocrinology. How could he not be a fit?”

  “I wasn’t referring to his skills. I was talking about his personality. His rudeness caused Dr. Wilson to quit.”

  The color in Kelsey’s cheeks deepened. “The way I heard it, you were the one who hurt Dr. Wilson’s feelings.”

  That was true, and
the memory still flooded Dara with shame. She took a deep breath, waiting until she could speak in an even tone. “Let’s call the problem a function of how Dr. Lyle and I interact.”

  “Then why can’t you change the way you interact with him? I mean, we’re really short on doctors around here. It’s crazy to turn someone away just because you don’t like them.”

  Dara caught a glimpse of shirt sleeve behind Kelsey at the edge of the doorway. Javier was waiting to hear her decision too. It would be much simpler it she could tell them that Dr. Lyle was a demon, but they wouldn’t believe her, and their disbelief would undercut her credibility in other areas. This was a battle she would have to fight alone.

  “You’ll have to trust my judgment on this,” she said.

  Kelsey stomped from the room. It was clear that wouldn’t happen.

  Later that afternoon, as Dara was checking the exam rooms to be sure they each had a supply of Dora and Diego “I Had a Muy Bien Exam!” stickers for the evening’s pediatric clinic, Gabby came to find her. “Dr. Henderson is on the phone.”

  Dara fought down a feeling of dread. Surely nothing else could go wrong today.

  “My reserve unit is being deployed.” He sounded shell-shocked.

  “Oh, no.” The words felt inadequate. Dr. Henderson’s husband was also serving overseas. “What about your children?”

  “My parents will keep them until Chris’s rotation ends.”

  Dara bit her lip. “If there’s anything we can do to help, let us know.”

  After promising to keep in touch, Dr. Henderson hung up.

  If you counted Dr. Wilson, that made three lost volunteers in less than twenty-four hours. She broke the bad news to Javier. “Where does that leave us with the schedule?”

  He checked his calendar. “They both worked the second Thursday of the month. With them gone, that only leaves Dr. Sanders.” He stroked the soul patch below his lower lip, a sure sign he was nervous.

  “What?” she asked.

  He pulled a card from his desk drawer. The left-hand side of the card featured a picture of Dr. Ben Lyle, smiling his arrogant smile. Script letters printed on the other three-quarters of the card provided contact information.